


Sleep Song for a Prince

by JourneyIntoMadness



Category: Hellboy - All Media Types
Genre: Dreams, Elves, Folklore, Mythical Beings & Creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-26 16:50:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7582105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JourneyIntoMadness/pseuds/JourneyIntoMadness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nuada suffers from a series of dreams during his exile about a mysterious woman and the fate of the world. Inspired by The Fountain and Journey OST. I may expand this into a full fledged story in due time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Last Man

Nuada's sleep was usually restless. It was in his dreams that memories of the past had always come flooding back to torment him. The endless war with humanity had scarred him not only physically, but also mentally and emotionally. His self-imposed exile did not help matters either. However, he had never really been alone in his exile. Relocating to the States and living near the Troll Market had meant that he was always close to his people. He was still their prince. Not to mention Mr. Wink had been a good friend for many millennia and he was never too far away. Yet, in his soul, he felt alone. The connection between him and his sister had dulled. He rarely saw her or their father in person. No matter how warm a lover would keep his bed, it would never melt the harsh coldness of his heart. He had always warned that the hole in the heart of mankind could never be filled, but he was beginning to suspect the same was happening to him. The further into obscurity his people sank, the bigger the wound became. He felt the only way to save his people was to end the infection that was mankind. He spent enough time amongst the humans to learn their language and to gauge how they interacted with each other and the world. He knew some of them were doing their best to 'save the planet' as it were, but he could never see it as being enough. Being Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, they would always carry the sin of death and decay.

Even now, he dreamt of their destruction. His dreams were always the same - him releasing the Golden Army to destroy the humans and save his people. How bittersweet it was when he awoke to find his dreams had not yet come true. Tonight, however, his dreams were different. In this dreamscape he woke up beside a massive tree in the middle of a forest. A blue ethereal glow set upon everything in sight. Fireflies flitted about. Save for the cricket song, it was quiet and peaceful. Nuada rose to his feet and noticed he was clothed in all black and that his feet were bare. He had been enjoying the diverse life that thrived in this little safe haven when a flash of orange in the distance caught his attention. The silhouette of a person ran through the trees and a ghostly voice called his name as the figure disappeared. _Who was that?_ Nuada, of course, felt compelled to follow. Time made little difference in this dream, what felt like minutes could have been seconds or vice versa. The pale prince did not know how long he had ran after the figure but he suddenly found himself at the edge of the forest. Beyond the treeline was another world. Brows furrowed together. _What is this?_  White sand stretched out flat before him and was met by the steady rise of dunes. A deep blue sky joined the horizon of sand to offer another stark contrast. This place was bright, tinged in the orange hue of a blazing sun, but as he stepped out of the shade of the forest, he felt no heat. No life stirred here. Even the trees that pockmarked this landscape were mere dead husks. In the middle of all of this was a large stone structure. The figure he saw earlier was in the distance adorned with orange clothing and ascending the steps of this structure. 

Nuada moved to follow once more, this time with more speed in his step. Once inside the structure turned into a maze. He would have gotten lost were it not for the distant shuffle of footsteps. This structure almost looked like the inside of a sandstone cave. Rays of light flooded in from above every so often. The walls were carved into various intricate patterns and complex scenes depicting everyday life, similar to the hieroglyphics of Egypt. Nuada instinctively ran his hand across the rough surface as he went along in complete awe. Had he been here before? He could not recall ever visiting the desert, though he knew there to be such an environment in western America. Just like in the forest, he felt at peace here even with it seemingly being devoid of life.

Again, there was no telling how much time had passed before he found himself in a large, dark room. When golden eyes flicked up, he saw millions of stars greet him.  _When had the day become night? Where am I?_ The figure was now laying on the floor of a balcony that overlooked the valley below. Fires blazed beyond. Nuada slowly approached the figure suddenly aware that he had no weapons. The closer he got, the more he could make out that the figure was a woman. He carefully bent down in front of her and pushed brunette hair from her face. His breathing hitched. Whenever he tried to focus on the features of her face, they seemed to shift. She looked like every female and none with each passing second. She coughed and spurted blood. It was then that Nuada noticed the blood pooling on the floor and staining through her clothes from a wound in the abdomen. Eyes that never settled on a color, gazed up into his. Fingers brushed across his royal scar as he reluctantly cradled her in his arms. "Why?" she asked him in a cracked voice. And again in a fading whisper as life left her body. 

The prince found himself slightly panicking.  _Who is this woman? Who-_

The sound of an explosion severed his thoughts. He placed the woman upon the floor and peered down into the valley. Blood and death met his eyes. All he could see for miles and miles were bodies of man and faerie alike and streams of red and gold blood and fire. Screams of anguish and gunfire met his ears, the putrefaction and burning of skin met his nose. He wanted to throw up but was too shocked to do anything but stare at the mayhem before him. The Golden Army wreaked havoc upon the masses of humans but humans were never satisfied with going quietly or without a fight. The devastation they had released in defense had smote the earth. Millions of lives were caught in the crossfire and lay in piles. Death wasn't picky here. This world had turned red and black, with never-ending darkness only to be punctuated by the glittering gold of the troll made army and the flashes of explosions from nuclear weapons. "What happened?" He heard himself ask in complete disbelief.

"You happened." Was the reply from behind him.

Nuada whirled around ready to strike but again he had no weapon. It was the woman! She stood before him now, clothes still stained with blood. She was pale and her features kept changing, but the hair oddly remained the same. She moved passed him and observed the chaos below. "You did this," she continued. "You killed the world and everyone in it."

Everything suddenly went silent and still. The Golden Army was in irreparable pieces, faerie and human all laid dead. To his horror, Nuada could see his sister and father among the dead along with Mr. Wink. His knees felt weak. This had turned into a nightmare. "This is your fate. This is what you wanted."

The elf shook his head, "No...no, not this."

"You will be the last of your kind here, of any kind. The last man."

Nuada sank to the floor as the revelation hit him.  _How?! This cannot be real. I must be dreaming._

The woman knelt beside him and touched his chest, "This is your future but it doesn't have to be this way. I can help you."

Golden eyes flicked up to that indiscernible face, "Who are you?!"

The woman smiled, or so he thought, as she stood up once more. The structured had morphed around her and the balcony turned into a grand staircase that she then descended. Nuada watched as she stepped across the burnt battlefield over twisted and torn bodies. Blood soaked into the hems of her trousers and through her sandals but none of it fazed her as she continued through and up a sand dune. At the top of it, she turned to Nuada and motioned for him to follow. He suddenly felt very cold, as if the blood in his veins had turned to ice. His breathing became short and rasped as he struggled to get on his feet once more. His body refused to work properly as he stumbled towards the stairs. With a sudden sense of vertigo, he fell head first onto the staircase and unceremoniously rolled to the bottom. He had expected his head to hit something hard but instead it softly thudded into a blanket of sand. It was bright again. The desertscape had returned. There were no more bodies or blood, no Golden Army, only sand. The woman was suddenly towering above him, looking upon him with questioning eyes. "Nuada? Prince Nuada?" The feminine voice faded and morphed into that of a man. Nuada blinked and was met with the facade of an elven acquaintance.

"Your Highness?" 

Nuada snapped awake and swiftly rose from his bed, frantically searching around his room before golden eyes met Atheo's green ones. "Good dream?" The other questioned with a cheeky grin.


	2. Holy Dread for the Tree of Life

A couple of days had passed since Nuada's last bizarre dream. None of it made any sense no matter how hard he tried to deconstruct it. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to fade from memory until only bits and pieces remained. He remembered there being trees and sand and a strange woman with no face. He remembered the torrents of blood and bodies but the details were gone. The prince had recently returned from Italy after his companion, Atheo, practically dragged him to one of those human auctions of a nefarious nature. Little did he know that the events unfolding there were to fuel his dreams even more. He did not remember falling asleep but the sound of a distant gong jolted him awake. At least, he thought he was awake. Again clad in black and bare feet Nuada found himself in some strange cave. Blue fire flicked from the torches mounted on the walls and danced across this enclosed space. Between each light was an indiscernible carving in black, making five in total. In the center of the cave was a wide hole that went straight down. The elf looked down and could see what very much looked like space. How were the stars below him? As he continued to stare out into this glittery abyss he could see something rather bright moving towards the hole. First it moved slowly, then abruptly ascended and smashed into the cave. The tremor it caused made Nuada lose his footing and fall through the hole. He landed onto a stone floor below with the grace and ease of a cat. As he stood up, he looked above him to see that the hole had disappeared. He was in another enclosed space made of grey stone. Behind him, heavy doors groaned and slid open. The elf stepped through the threshold and into a peculiar hallway that looked similar to the one at the auction except instead of rich wooden panels and chandeliers, this hall was entirely stone and the light seemed to come from nowhere. 

He moved toward a sign at the end of the hall that simply read: **Please collect your watcher.**

Brows furrowed at the message.  _What on Earth?_

He moved on and into another room. He could hear the rumbling of machinery below him as he walked through this stone maze. He eventually reached a window with copper bars across it. In the niche below it was a simple bronze ring with a celtic dragon expertly etched on the surface. He picked it up and gave it an inspection before sliding it over his thumb. A little chime sounded from behind him and an elevator door opened. He eyed the modern contraption with contempt before stepping inside. The elevator then took him up to the top floor. Outside, he found the building that he was in was actually rotating which would explain the machinery he heard. This place seemed to be nestled in a river valley lined on either side by tall, regal trees and the occasional waterfall. Birds sang their melodies and a slight warm wind rustled the leaves about. Next to this building was an even bigger stone monstrosity that was also rotating but at a much slower rate. Bridges extended from both structures and they would momentarily connect before breaking away in opposite directions. Nuada neared the edge of one and waited for the connection before stepping across and making his way inside the goliath. 

It took him some time to realize why the place seemed so familiar to him, but once he was inside the main corridor, he knew this to be the faerie prison on a Scottish island hidden by glamour. Why was he here? The shuffling of feet disrupted his thoughts. Nuada padded the empty space of his left side and once again noted the lack of weapons. An ominous hum rose from the bowels of the building, as sounds of chains clinking and scratching at the walls echoed throughout. The blood curdling scream of a woman was released and the prince was off like a shot, running towards the noise. Blood began to seep from the edges of the stone walls and roll down towards the floor. "Nuada!" He ran towards the open door that led to the center of the prison and found himself in a lush green field. He stopped in his tracks, feeling the grass beneath his feet and whirled around. There was no more stone building, just trees. It was no longer day time. He turned back around to yet another surreal environment. There before him was a massive tree, the size of a mountain with many long, thick branches and leaves made of glittering blue lights. The roots of the tree stretched out for miles and whole forests dwelled in between. Little lights blinked from the much smaller trees like they contained whole cities. The most impressive thing was that the tree itself was made up of many trees that all twisted and spiraled together and sprawled upwards til its tips reached the heavens. Nuada stood there in dumbfounded awe for in all his years he never seen such a spectacle.

"Crann Bethadh _,"_ he whispered. The Tree of Life. 

The prince questioned whether or not he had just traveled to the spirit world because he believed this to be beyond the capability of his dreams. Movement at the corner of his eye tore his attention away. Just on the edge of where the tree roots started, was a fire pit and a group of people amassed around it. The beating of drums leapt into the air as the silent onlookers of faerie and human watched the mesmerizing dance of a few women as they twirled around and through the flames. It seemed to be a ritualistic offering to the intertwining tree as the morning sun started to shine between the gaps. The drumming intensified and the dancers began to glow a vibrant orange as if they were bright elves. Nuada found himself entranced like everyone else. Soon the dancers twirled and twirled into a near blinding light until they disappeared and only one person remained. This figure was different from the dancers, clad in gold colored tunic and trousers, with a chest piece reaching the lower torso, shoulder armour and a helmet all of bronze. Leather bracers girded each wrist and a bronze mask in the shape of a face covered the figure, save for the eyes. This figure held a dark handled spear with a tip of the length of a short blade. Nuada tensed as the onlookers moved aside to give the figure a wide birth. It unsheathed a sword that the prince realized was his own and threw it towards his feet where it stuck perfectly in the earth. Nuada grabbed the sword and twirled it just as the figure lunged forward with the intention of gutting the elf. He deftly blocked the attack forcing the figure to the side and swung down to slice the assailant's back, however it rolled out of harm's way and once on its feet swung the spear around aiming for Nuada's torso. He missed the sharp tip by mere inches as he jumped away. 

The figure's movements were predatory as it circled around the elf before it attacked again. The pair swung at each other, dodged, and landed blows for what felt like an eternity. However the sun was still behind the tree and never moved. The fire never died down. Much to his chagrin, none of Nuada's attacks harmed the figure. There were no cuts where there should be. Was this figure even real? The prince could not allow himself to get distracted. He did not know what would happen if he were killed here. Yet his concentration was broken when he heard someone scream his name. Flashes of the previous dream flooded his vision and gave him a splitting headache. The figure cocked its head and attacked again, this time with unrelenting blows. Nuada could only fight back for so long as the world began to spin. He felt the cold, hard end of the spear crack against the side of his skull and send him to the ground. He felt the blade edge on his neck as the flashes subsided fully expecting his head to come off but the figure did not move. It only stood and stared through lidless eyes of its mask. "What do you want?" 

The figure removed the slightest bit of pressure from the blade before reaching up with one hand and removing its mask. Golden eyes met those of the ever-changing female from before. "Death is overrated," she said matter-of-factually. "Are you afraid to die?"

"No." What a preposterous question. Nuada was ready to fight and die for what he believed in. Who was this woman and why had she invaded his dreams? Why did her face never stay the same?

"Then are you afraid to live?"

The prince knitted his brows together, not quite understanding, "Why should I be? I prefer being alive."

The woman narrowed her eyes and sliced the elf's neck enough to make him flinch and bleed, "That is not what I asked. There is a difference between living and being alive. You, Crown Prince, are not living...Perhaps you never will." The woman moved the spear away and stepped back, clearly disappointed. "Perhaps you are a lost cause."

Nuada scrambled to his feet and glowered at the woman. How dare she speak to him that way! "I have a duty to protect my people! _That_ is what I live for. _That_ is no lost cause. These wretched humans have destroyed everything!"

The prince was seething now, pacing back and forth, eyeing the random few humans in with the faerie. How he hated them and their iron blood and their evil ways. He could never forgive what they had done.  _Who is this woman? Is she human or faerie?_ "Who are you to perceive anything about me?" 

The woman only smirked and looked behind the prince to the massive tree. Nuada turned and watched in horror as the tree caught fire and became engulfed. The roots began to rumble and crack as flames burst through and lashed out at the surrounding forests. He could hear the screams of those who resided in that great tree city. Like with the sudden eruption of Vesuvius, the inhabitants could not escape the devastation. The prince swiftly moved to the woman and grabbed her by either side of the chest piece and nearly lifted her off the ground as his face was menacingly near hers, "Stop this."

Unfazed the woman answered, "I cannot. This is not my doing."

"Then who?! Who is doing this? Why? Who are you?"

"Please collect your watcher."

Confused by the words, Nuada shook the woman, "What?"

"Your watcher m'lord." The woman pointed to his bronze dragon ring laying on the ground. It must have slipped off during the fight. He pushed the woman away, frustrated by her very presence.

Nuada picked up the ring but when he rose the scene had completely changed. He was back in his chambers. He looked around and saw Wink just a few feet away, eyebrows raised. "Your Highness?"

"Why did I come back here?" He mumbled to himself.

"You left?" the troll inquired.

"No...I-" The elf glanced down at his hand and saw that there was no ring, "I must have been sleepwalking."


	3. Stay With Me

A week had passed and Nuada had not been plagued by any more strange dreams. He chalked it up to stress as his plans to track down the third piece of the crown and release the Golden Army had been mightily wearing on him. Perhaps his dreams were telling him his intentions were fool-hardy. What didn't help the stress was an infernal group of human and faerie that were also trying to find the crown piece but to what end? Perhaps to thwart the prince's efforts? Worse even, to claim the army as their own? Nuada was entirely frustrated and especially by the human woman that had managed to just waltz right into his living chambers. He should have killed her right then and there. He even had the tip of his sword at her neck ready to her divorce her head from it but she showed no fear. Only amusement danced across her features. The insufferable quim had some gall that was for sure. She had assured him that he needn't worry about the third crown piece, that her people were  _handling_ it, whatever that meant. Nuada had of course responded how he was the Crown Prince and that the piece was rightfully his and how dare some filthy human tell him what to do. That was the moment he wanted to kill, when she simply smirked, turned from him and walked away. He should have gone after her, chased her through the Troll Market and make an example of her but he couldn't because of who she was, because of her connections in the faerie world.  _Damn her!_  

The prince decided to train for another hour before having a shower and retiring to bed. The hours ticked by before Nuada was awoken by the slightest brush against his cheek. Golden hues snapped open to stare down the offender, only to see an auburn leaf flutter to the ground beside him. The elf rolled onto his back and looked up at the trees that stretched on forever with the canopy barely perceptible in a lilac haze. He immediately recognized this to be a dream. Surely it would end in horror just like the last two. As he rose to his feet, Nuada noticed he was fully clothed this time, complete with boots and a dagger. At least he had a weapon. This entire world was made up of trees upon trees, all tightly knit together to form walls, even the floor was smooth and wooden. As he walked along, bits of stone jutted from the bark until entire structures began to appear, but the architecture was falling apart, seemingly had been for some time. Nuada knew in his heart that he must be inside the Crann Bethadh! These were the cities he saw in the forests that grew between the roots. He vaguely remembered the tree being on fire but there were no signs of fire damage here. It simply looked abandoned. The faerie lights had stopped working long ago and instead bio-luminescent mushrooms that grew from the tree walls lit the way.

Nuada followed the winding path as it descended and eventually found himself on a long, flat precipice. The same purple haze from the canopy had settled across the great canyon below as trees grew out of its murky depths. He wondered if he had reached the center of the massive tree and if he had, this was not what he expected. It was alive but the magic was gone. To his left another path had forked off towards a pyramid which he felt compelled to enter. Nothing dramatic had happened yet. Everything here was still and serene and there was no mystery woman either. As the elf entered the pyramid he found that the inside was hollow and the path spiraled downward to a vast, brightly lit library with large stained glass windows. All of the books were still intact and in immaculate condition but there was no one here to read them. He idly picked up a brilliant blue coptic bound journal from one of the tables and flipped through it. Many detailed sketches filled the book but the elf could not make out the language the words were written in. It had to be incredibly old. Perhaps the original all-tongue? Nuada returned the journal and traversed the library, stopping at each window to observe their details. Just like the sandstone cave, images of everyday life played out on colored glass. The last pane was a culmination of the previous ones that resulted in the creation of five very important things but what those were eluded the prince. There was an ancient history here the world had forgotten, faerie included. Much of the architecture looked to be human designed but it was also skillfully interwoven with faerie concepts.  _I wonder_.

Nuada had heard the stories of how his people had lived in absolute harmony with the faerie long before his time and in the time of his father's youth. Crann Bethadh had been the focus of activity on Earth before it was lost from the magical races and mankind alike. How and why, no one remembered or if they did, they could not bear to tell. The prince always suspected his father was hiding something but never asked what it was. Something fluttered passed the windows making Nuada focus on the glass again. The longer he looked, the more he could tell that there was water outside the windows. Those were fish swimming by! Had he reached the deep roots of the tree? That couldn't be right. He could vaguely see the outlines of trees through the colored glass. No, this must have been a pocket of water the tree stored. There must have been many of these given the size of the place. 

He eventually left the library and began following another path that skirted the back of the pyramid. He found a set of stairs cut from the tree that went up for an impossibly long time. He did not know how long it took him to reach the top or how long it took him to traverse the new path that winded around the trees and through more abandoned buildings. It was an almost mind numbing journey and Nuada's feet seemed to move themselves for he felt he could no longer process a single thought in this quiet, eerie place.  _This must be what insanity feels like_.

* * *

  **The Call**

* * *

 

"Nuada." 

The elf lurched to a stop and stood ramrod straight, hand on the dagger. Of course, it was the mystery woman standing scant feet from him. This time when he focused on her face, he could see that her eyes did not change. They remained brown and almond shaped and her hair was still brunette with the added detail of being curly and held in a loose bun. Her clothes were the same ombre orange one-shoulder tunic and trousers from before with a wide leather brown belt cinching her waist and leather sandals adorned her feet. It certainly stood out against her warm tan skin and made her appear entirely regal despite her changing facial features. "Who are you?" This was the third time he asked her and he was not in the habit of repeating himself. He ground his teeth when she ever so slightly cocked her head to the side before turning to face the cavernous expanse behind her. The elf had not noticed it before but he was in a large, open space in the hollow of a tree that stretched for miles in either direction.  _This_ must be the center. In the middle was a large, metal cube suspended in the air on all sides by many long, thin roots that grew from the cavern walls. One of the roots was thicker than the others, carved into stairs and a flat surface that led to the entrance of the cube. 

"The tree died, because people died," the woman stated looking very sullen. "It grew cold and alone and no creature wanted to be inside these walls. It is alive, but it does not live." 

 _There is a difference between living and being alive._ Nuada remembered her words from before.

Nuada gently grabbed her arm to shake her from her thoughts, "Who are you. Do not make me ask again."

Soft, brown eyes peered into his, "I...I do not know. I don't remember." She looked towards the cube and moved from Nuada's grasp before making her way along the path away from the cavern. 

The prince followed her, "What is that cube? What's in the there?"

The woman shook her head, "I don't remember." 

 _Well this is going nowhere._  

Sounding a little more than irritated, he pushed on, "Is there anything you do remember?" 

The woman stopped, considering the question, "My mother. I remember my mother but she died too."

 Nuada remembered his mother as well and she too had died but that wasn't the point. "Is this a dream or ...something else?"

"Oh this is a dream. Your dream I believe."

"Why are you here?"

The woman remained silent for a moment, carefully choosing her words, "I believe that is something for you to figure out."

Nuada, visibly annoyed, crossed his arms and ground his teeth once more. Who knew dreams could be so frustrating. He needed to figure this out if he was to be free of these surreal dreams. "Perhaps this is my conscience? Trying to convince me to leave the Golden Army be, perhaps this is my sister's doing? But it is useless. I will not stop, I cannot. There will be nothing left if we wait for the humans to reverse the damage they've done." 

"As there will be nothing left if the army is released. A classic paradox." The woman began walking again and as she did, the trees shimmered and melted away and the pair of them were in a small desert gorge. 

Immediately below them was a small creek with impossibly blue water that gently splashed against the side walls and just above that were four, impressive wooden buildings that lined either side of the gorge. A little metal bridge across the river connected the two sides. One side had the kitchen and living quarters, while the other housed the study and indoor garden. Strangely, just on the other side of this enclosed gorge, the pale prince could see snow capped mountains. The woman sat cross legged upon the ground and stared into the distance as if waiting for something. Nuada decided to join her, "Are you entirely sure this is my dream and not yours?"

"How can it be my dream if I'm a figment of your imagination?"

"I do not believe you to be from my imagination or any of this. I think that perhaps you are something else entirely. A dreamwalker?"

The woman only glanced at him ever so slightly.

"Ah! So you are. Mystery solved. Now I just have to figure out why you're here correct?"

"The sun will come up soon. I wish you could stay with me."

Nuada's eyes widened at the confession. It was an interesting thing to say no doubt given how their previous meetings went. "You insist on visiting me and you hide your face so what difference does it make if I stay or not?"

"Choice," she simply replied. "This dream began to make sense because you chose to follow it here. You began to figure it out but now we are at an impasse. Next time, you must choose to be _here_ or it will not be pleasant."

Nuada's brows furrowed, "What does that me-" Before he could finish his sentence, the woman pushed him back and the world spun upside down as the elf could feel himself land on his bed. He jolted awake and looked around his chambers, heart beating like a galloping horse. These dreams really needed to stop.


	4. Place of Fear

* * *

  **Nascence**

* * *

 

_What do you fear?_

Golden eyes fluttered open at the soft inquiry. Nuada felt as if he were floating even though he was sitting down. As he began to come to, he could feel the grit of sand over his legs and in his hair. He noted he was sitting cross legged and buried up to the waist in the sand as if he had been here for awhile. He rose up, brushing himself off and observed his surroundings. A sea of sand surrounded him on all sides. Though this was an incredibly bright and hazy desert, he felt no heat. In fact, he felt numb and cold as ice. He did not see another soul nor could he hear anything. When he focused hard enough, he could just make out something fluttering ontop a dune just in the distance. As he neared it, he could tell that it was a long strip of orange silk cloth tied to a simple wooden pole. _Perhaps it was left by her? This dreamwalker is a peculiar one. What did she say in the last dream? I need to find her._ He could see snow-capped mountains in the distance. Her home, or at least what he suspected was her home, was just before those mountains.

Nuada took the cloth and tied it to his belt before marching onward down the other side of the dune. As Nuada trudged along he came across various ruins of many buildings, some of which looked familiar. It didn't take him long to realize he was walking through disseminated parts of New York, or rather what was left of it. How had this happened? How long had it been? In places where the streets weren't buried in sand, little shoots of grass took hold. There were even some trees that had managed to survive on what little water there was. The sand stretched on endlessly, its unity only broken by ruins that poked through the sand. Soon the buildings began to look different, less sleek and modern, more ancient and worn. It was as if the sands had swallowed the world and a new one was built on top, only for the desert to conquer this as well. He walked through a field of what he could only guess were grave markers before sliding down another dune into a valley flanked by these buildings. Their design was not familiar to him. When a mountainous wall blocked his path forward, he began to climb. Again, time had no concept here. He did not know how long he had been moving before he reached the other side of this wall. In the distance, he could see the snow-capped mountains more clearly. He was already gaining closer to his destination: a tall, pyramid shaped mountain. Below him was another expanse of barren wastes. 

He sighed out his frustration and continued. He still felt no heat nor even broke a sweat. There was still no life. He found his surrounding were becoming less hazy as if he was moving towards clearer air. He also found that if he maintained proper balance, he could easily glide down the dunes and expedite his journey. He pushed on as a sandstorm rolled through and the day turned to night. He found shelter in the ruins but refused to fall asleep lest that be how he awoke back into the real world. He wanted to stay here a bit longer and find that dreamwalker. Things had not been going well for him in the waking world. That confounded human female was using his rightful crown piece as some kind of leverage and it made his blood boil. He found out where she lived and confronted her. She knew where the piece was and confessed that she was protecting it! She had no right! How much he wanted to kill her yet again but he did not unsheathe his blade, only his molten eyes bore the animosity he felt. He would have to rip the location from her mind but gods forbid he sully himself with the mind of a filthy human. That insolent smirk told him she had him cornered. He would have had great pleasure smacking it from her lips but she was well protected. He stalked from her home like a raging bull and immediately came back to his sanctuary. He nearly trashed the place in his anger. The day had exhausted him and he decided he was now desperate to gain the dreamwalker's help. They were dangerous things after all. They could kill just as easily as they could heal. Perhaps if he found the walker she could search that human mind and find the crown piece for him.

Once the storm had passed, Nuada began his trek again. He soon found who he was looking for sat upon a wall overlooking more ruins that descended rather far down. She said nothing as he made his way up to her. As the prince got closer, he realized her appearance was different. She was no longer in her usual orange ensemble but instead dressed in black. Her curly hair was swept back in its usual bun, with an added pair of goggles resting upon her head. She wore semi-loose trousers that tucked into boots, fingerless gloves adorned hands, and she wore a sleeveless top that stopped just short of her waistline. The only bit of color on her was a light red and gold shawl that adorned her neck. When she finally turned to look at him, Nuada nearly fell off the wall.  _This is impossible._ The dreamwalker's facial features had finally stopped shifting and settled on the visage of that annoying human. She could not be the same person. 

"You seem a bit troubled." The walker stated, rising to her feet.

"You...you look just like that-that..."

"Human nuisance of yours?"

"Yes."

"You believe us to be the same people?"

"It is not possible."

"Perhaps not. Then again, Your Royal Highness, this is  _your_ dream."

Nuada crossed his arms, becoming increasingly annoyed, "What does that mean?"

"I've only ever provided the environment. Where it takes you is entirely up to the inner workings of your mind. Perhaps my looking like your current issue will help you to sort it?"

"She is already a pervasive force in my life, I do not want her in my dreams!"

The woman only shrugged, feigning that she had no control over her appearance at this point. Brown hues took in the scenery and a simple nod of her head indicated what she was looking at. "You have a long way to go before sunrise. Do keep up." With that she slid on her goggles, hopped down, and glided ever so gently to the sandy floor before surfing away through the ruins. 

Light brows knitted together. It seemed gravity also had little effect in this imagined world. The elf followed suit, finding that he too could momentarily float before his boots hit the sand. He slid after the woman, hellbent on some answers. He could hear her laughter as she sailed through, hopping over ruins and sliding through arches. She used her momentum and a jutted piece of stone to ramp her up over a wall and continue onward. Nuada followed her movements and found himself smiling rather pleasantly. He was enjoying himself despite his current dilemma. "This way!" She shouted behind her, leading him further down towards a wide cavern. She skillfully whipped around to his side, offering him a smile of her own.

The cavern soon turned into a large hall, with towering pillars that flanked a long balcony overlooking a rather intact city. The pyramid of a mountain broke through the horizon and towered above this city. The dreamwalker momentarily slid to a stop, flipping her goggles up so she could get a better look at the abandoned ruins. The glint in her eyes spoke volumes. She had a fondness for this place. Nuada was beginning to question if this really was his dream. She did say, she provided the environment. The journey was seemingly his own with her as some sort of guide who had the misfortune of looking like the current bane of his existence. She muttered something he could not quite catch as she began to frown. The woman glanced his way, "We must move quickly here. That mind of yours is up to something." She moved to slide down again and the elf quickly followed.

"What is my mind up to exactly?" He inquired after her.

"I cannot begin to explain the constructs of a dream but...it'll be dark where we're going. Don't get lost!"

The woman followed the curvatures of the sandy path, heading even further down towards an encroaching darkness at a seemingly break neck angle. Nuada lost track of her here, sliding out of this tunnel and then gently floating down into the darkness. Only a few rays of sunlight offered illumination. "Dreamwalker?" He really should ask her name. Golden eyes peered around but the woman was nowhere in sight. Nuada shook off the feeling of apprehension and walked towards a gated doorway. As he approached, the gates slid open and he perceived he was about to enter some kind of necropolis. 

* * *

  **The Descent**

* * *

 

Sand had long flooded the great halls of this underground. Whatever was here has long since been buried. Or at least he thought. The slightest noise caught his attention and when he focused on the dimly lit room before him, he could see movement. "Dreamwalker?" He heard himself calling out. He crouched and slowly moved forward, taking cover behind an old stone block. The cavern up ahead shuddered as large machine wheels turned into place. The elf could feel himself swallow rather hard and his heart rate increase. All the warnings had been signaled in his mind that this was a dangerous place.

The silver-haired snapped to attention when he suddenly heard his name being screamed out. It sounded very much like his mother!

"Mother!" Against his better judgement, he launched from behind the cover and ran into the cavern. Ahead, illuminated by a single beam of light, he could see a huddled mass. He ran towards her, unaware of the danger.

He could hear her calling again, rather weakly this time. He would save her! He would not let her die again, "I'm coming!"

As he approached the woman a hideous stone creature shot up from beneath the sand with an ear piercing screech. Nuada was knocked off his feet by the sudden eruption and stared on helplessly as his would be mother disappeared with the creature, further into the darkness. "Mother!"

The elf got on his feet and ran as fast as he could across the sand in the hopes of catching up. He down a small corridor and skid to a stop just at the threshold when he saw the creature fly across the hall, a great light for an eye, searching for something. Nuada reached for his sword and was pleasantly surprised to know that it was actually there. He hadn't noticed his weaponry before, or had he managed to manifest it in a time of need?

He silently crept forward, weaving in between the pillars, being sure to stay out of the sight of the stone menace. There was no sign of his mother or of the dreamwalker. The elf could make out glittering lights just beyond him. He realized there were people holding those lights, all huddled in a mass. He felt the urge to run towards them, protect them, but the creature had turned its attention on them, its white beam of light turning red before swooping down and devouring them. He would have to stick to the darkness if he wanted to survive. He was quite okay with that. Nuada continued to move, he needed to get out of here. The space was too open, leaving him prone. As if on queue, another stone creature shuddered to life and burst forth from the sand. As it flew off in an opposite direction, the warrior ran and slid into what looked like an air vent. One of the creatures passed over, narrowly missing him as he crawled towards the other open end. Once he lost sight of it, Nuada ran again into the next room. 

He could see the exit was near and almost breathed a sigh of relief when he heard a mechanical whirring behind him, as he turned, he felt the red hot ray of the stone creature on him. Just as it struck Nuada drew his sword only to be knocked to the side, becoming entangled with his dreamwalker.

"Can't stay out of trouble can you?"

"What are those things?" He questioned, quickly tearing himself away from the woman.

"Manifestations I should think," she replied, crouching down as close to the wall as she could.

"Of what?"

"Your fears, your personal demons, your failures, whatever it is that keeps you up at night."

The prince was on the verge of replying with a biting remark when the woman yelled "C'mon!" as she grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him after her, intent on running straight towards the exit.

Only problem was the two creatures fervently patrolling the direct path. A third had joined from behind as the first two were alerted to the runners. They screamed and chased after them, gaining on their heels. As they approached the doorway, sand turned into snow and Nuada could feel the cold breeze against his face. A blinding light suddenly consumed them, causing the creatures to roar in anguish and turn away. 

* * *

  **First Snow**

* * *

 

Nuada thought that he would wake up but he had not. It momentarily felt that way. He swore he caught a glimpse of his sanctuary, then another room as the brightness dimmed. The elf warrior could feel the biting cold now, calf deep in snow. He could now see that he was in a snowy ravine, the mountainous destination just before him.  _So close now_. He felt that the dreamwalker lived at the top. He turned to ask her but found that she had disappeared again and in her place was the shawl she wore. He picked it up and wrapped it about his shoulders before pressing on.

He could hear the all too familiar mechanical roar above him and groaned inwardly at the stone creature that flew across the path ahead. There was no escaping these beasts it seemed. Nuada decided to stick closer to the walls to avoid detection and to better protect himself from the gusts of the icy wind that swept through the ravine. He had to crouch and use the shawl as a flimsy shield just to help withstand the blasts, otherwise he would be hurtled backwards and lose his progress. He was now stuck in a world of grey and white, hardly able to see scant feet before him. The temperature dropped further and Nuada found it harder to push on. The constant patrol of the stone creatures made every sense stand on edge. He could hear their mechanical whirring overhead as he ducked into the only bits of ruins here that offered temporary shelter. He would observe his predators' movements before pushing into the next cover. He continued this for far too long before he wound up in an even narrower ravine that soon formed into carved pillars. A storm raged on at this height, having damaged the building carved from the mountainside. No matter, Nuada kept going. He had to keep moving as he could feel his body stiffening from the cold. If the creatures wouldn't kill him, the weather would. He then wondered if he could be killed here. Would he die in the real world?

_No. The dreamwalker would not allow it...would she?_

As he rounded the corner of the building, lighting bolts struck the ground and the wind knocked him off his feet. The eye of the storm was swirling around the base of the mountaintop, daring any fool to cross its path. The elf could swear he heard voices on the wind as he practically crawled through the snow. He could see more grave markers on the way up.  _Those that did not make it?_   _The walker said she created this environment. I must not be the first to come here!_ Had the markers been mere representations or were they really where previous travellers had failed their journey? Nuada had been so focused on his goal, he realized he had not focused on his surroundings. Now that he thought about it, he passed hundreds of these little bits of stone. This dreamwalker suddenly didn't seem so benevolent. It only made Nuada angry to have been so deceived. He used that anger to his advantage and kept crawling until he could make it to his feet again, determined to do what the others had not - succeed.  _I must not stop. I cannot._

This would become his mantra. He kept muttering it to himself, feeling the exhaustion and cold hit him hard. He did not want to die alone in this desolate, soulless place. He could barely see through the white haze now. All he had to go on was the light at the top of the mountain. His movements became sluggish, he could feel himself losing consciousness. Was that even possible in a dream? No. Because this was not a dream. Not anymore.

"I must...not stop. I must keep...I must...not s-stop." The noise of his slow footfalls flooded his ears. He could hear little else than his own ragged breath and the slow beats of his heart. The light had gone, the world has slowing down, then the world has spinning, then the elf was face first in the snow.  _No, not like this. Not like this._  

 


End file.
